


Stir Crazy

by Maimat, Miah_Arthur



Series: Gates of Hell [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Bigotry & Prejudice, Exploration, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Heaven, Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Stars, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 13:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Arthur/pseuds/Miah_Arthur
Summary: First Days of Hell AU (Pt 2). Lucifer is bored. How much trouble can one fallen angel find in Hell?He is determined to find out.
Relationships: Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: Gates of Hell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514090
Comments: 92
Kudos: 202





	1. To The Market

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to our betas Hircine_Taoist, fleem, and Matchstick_Dolly. (And Wollfang for the rhyme)
> 
> This is the continuation of Welcome to Hell  
Part 2 Of Gates of Hell Series.
> 
> There is no sexual content until the end of Chapter Four.

Image:

“The wind is rising; we need to leave now,” Maze yelled. 

Lucifer ignored her. 

He stood on the wall, wind buffeting his wings. The sensation of air rushing between his feathers conjured memories of flying. In his mind’s eye, he saw starlight. His skin tingled with the ghost of hot sunshine on his bare skin. 

The illusion didn’t last long. He pulled the scarf closer over his mouth and nose to keep from breathing in the ash and tucked the bare skin of his arms under his cloak. There was nothing sufficient to protect his wings. The ash coated his feathers, dulling the stunning white gleam to a muddy gray. 

In the Silver City, things were ordered and measured with precision and obsession. But not here. The passage of time didn't concern Maze. Each cycle of waking and sleeping, of ashfall and wind, was the same, yet imprecise. It made the measure of time untrustworthy despite its sameness, in a way that confounded yet fascinated him.

He understood so little of this world. He wanted to explore it and discover its secrets. Was this chaos and mystery not what he wished for back in the pristine, brilliant, colorless walls of the Silver City where nothing ever slipped out of place? 

Wind-blown ash ruffled his feathers and stuck to his skin.

He could do without the ash and filth. 

An instinctive response made his wings twitch with the need to flick and shake the grime off, but experience taught him it only stirred up more ash from the ground to swirl up in the air and recoat them. He’d done it once inside Maze’s dome. It got the ash out. Inside the dome. Where it stuck to everything. The last thing he wanted was to spend another wind avoiding Maze’s dirty looks as they cleaned ash off the walls and shelves. It was far better to put up with the ash and the grime. 

He extended his wings to their full span and relished one last gust of wind through the feathers. Dead, barren rocks and crags cut the landscape into sharp, razor edges. The blowing ash obscured the horizon, the undulating, rippling, rolling veil allowing only hints of what lay beyond. Unseen multitudes of small vicious beasts hid among the caves and crevices. Or so Maze told him. 

_Beasts_. He turned toward the collective. The Spire rose to the right, a great and towering presence with balconies and windows etched into its surface. His skin crawled at the sight, so he cast his eyes downward instead. Immediately below, closest to the wall, the domes were burned out husks. No one lived here. Farther, the domes became more uniform, the lanes haphazardly connected without rhyme or reason. Beyond that, almost completely obscured by the driving winds and blowing ash, he could make out the forms of the tents and shacks of the market—the stalls sealed and deserted until the next ashfall. 

“_Now_, Lucifer!” Maze shouted. 

He flexed his wings up against his back. A particularly strong gust of wind caught him, leaving him off balance. His wings reflexively snapped back into extension, and the wind caught them and dragged him backward.

A strong grip on his forearm prevented him from plummeting backward off the wall. Maze. His wings had the strength to prevent a crash into the harsh landscape. But flying? He hadn’t tried that yet; the feathers felt new and untested, and the memory of falling was stronger than the memory of flying. If his life depended on it, he could hold them extended to drift, but did he have the strength to leave the ground and fly back into the stronghold? He didn’t want to contemplate his fate if he landed outside the wall.

It was a close call, they both knew it, but Maze only spared him a disparaging look before stalking off. 

As the wind continued to rise, Lucifer held the scarf over his face and concentrated on taking shallow breaths while Maze led them through the confusing and narrow network of lanes linking the domes. Maze didn’t spare a glance as she pulled him along, passing through the burnt-out, deserted section closest to the wall. Nor did she allow him a chance to take a closer look at this deserted area. As the winds picked up speed, they hurried past the dilapidated domes inhabited by silent, glaring Lilim with interestingly monstrous features, and to their own area where the domes were larger and more secure. Lucifer had to squint to make out Maze’s form as the ash grew ever thicker in the air. 

He stumbled inside and leaned against the wall, pulling the scarf from his mouth and taking great gasps of clean air. Maze secured the door fold with leather ties, and with the door fixed in place, she turned on him and yanked him forward to untie his cloak. 

She didn’t say a word, and Lucifer stood, pliantly, as she undressed him. She may have won the argument about wearing body coverings outside of the dome, but there was no way he’d keep the ghastly things on when it wasn’t necessary. She hung the coverings on a hook on the wall and began reviving the hearth fire. “Sit.” 

“Why?” He cleared his throat and coughed. One cough set off a reaction of further coughing until he grabbed a water skin and took a long drink. 

She glared, and he glared back, until she shrugged and ignored him. Having settled the small battle of wills, victorious, he took a seat beside her. 

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine, Maze.” And that was another thing she’d not let go of easily, nor was it easy for him to forget the deep frigid ache in his stiff limbs when she came to him in the darkness below the Spire...

The shiver that seized him at the memory prompted Maze to toss another bundle of dried moss on the fire. Lucifer wasn’t going to say he didn’t appreciate the extra warmth. 

“I want to see the market.” 

“What do you need?” 

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you want to go?”

He knew she’d ask for justification. She’d done the same when he suggested going out to stretch his wings. Even after agreeing, she only took him at the end of ashfall and through the least populated of lanes. 

“I can’t hide in your dome forever.” 

“You aren’t hiding.” Maze shrugged. "Isn’t going to the wall enough?” 

“No!”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll make the Lilim curious.”

As if going outside and stopping a storm using a Power he never knew he had didn’t make the Lilim curious. “They’re already curious.” 

“You aren’t ready.” 

At this rate he'd never be ready. “How do I get ready?” 

“I’ll let you know.” 

Frustrated, he stood up and paced, wings twitching in his agitation. “I’m bored, Maze. Your dome is better than the Spire, but I’m still a captive, aren’t I?”

Mazikeen stood and stepped in his way. “I’m not holding you captive.” 

He swept his arm around the small dome. “Kind of feels like you are.”

“I’m keeping you safe. There’s a difference.” 

“I’m whole again, Maze,” Lucifer said, spreading out his arms and wings despite the cramped space. “They won’t find me as easy a target this time.” 

“If I take you out, Anilith will hear about your wings.”

“You don’t think she heard about how I calmed the storm? Not many of your neighbors missed that!” He sidestepped Maze and resumed pacing. “In the Spire, she knew everything I did, and I’ve seen the fat little creature who lurks outside your dome. He reports back to her; I’m sure of it.” 

“I didn’t think you were aware of him.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised what I’m aware of.” Maze blocked his path, and he huffed at the obstruction. “I’ve no doubt Anilith already knows about my wings. Take me to the market next ashfall. I’m tired of being cooped up in here. I want to see the Collective.”

“You aren’t Lilim.”

“So?”

Maze shook her head. “Fine. But you have to stay close to me. Don’t talk to anyone.” 

He perked up, glad she was seeing reason. “Yes, yes, it's a deal.” He grinned and the tension inside melted away. “Not just there and back. I want to look around.” 

“You might as well check your leatherwork. See if you’ve made anything worth trading.” 

None of his work was trade worthy yet, but his crafting was getting closer to Maze’s style the more he practiced. There wasn’t much else to do. The winds were growing ever stronger, and the now familiar and soothing howl isolated them from the rest of the Collective. When the winds were high, you were safe. No one dared venture out to interfere or interrupt. The hearth fire blazed. Maze’s dome grew comfortably warm, and Lucifer lounged on his bedroll staring up at the shadows cast on the ceiling. 

“I won’t be imprisoned again.”

Maze lay on her side, facing him. “You won’t. I will fight them if they try.”

Lucifer grinned and faced Maze, one arm tucked under his head. “And this time, I’ll be ready to fight with you.” 

* * *

Lucifer shoved a few belts and small pieces of armor Maze crafted into a bag to take with him to the Market. Maze puttered around. He was certain it was intentional to prolong his anticipation as he waited for her to be ready. 

“I could go on my own.”

“No, you can’t. You don’t know how to get there.” 

“It’s to the right of the Spire.” 

Maze snorted, “You’d never find your way through the lanes.” 

The lanes wouldn’t be a problem if he could fly. She’d not scoff at him then. How did these creatures live trapped on the ground? As soon as he was flight ready, he was going to…

What would he do? Leave the collective? He didn’t know the terrain. He didn’t know how to find shelter from the winds or how to find fungus and mosses to eat. There were other collectives out there, but he risked landing in another situation like Anilith or worse. He hadn't forgotten Ovtig, who'd given him his first taste of the cruelty Lilim were capable of.

And there was Maze. He’d never leave her behind. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

Maze helped him put on the strange clothes and tied them in place. He slipped his own feet into the sandals but she brushed his hands away as he knelt to tie them. She’d long ago given up on trying to teach him how to tie them right. It mattered little when he rarely left the dome and had no cause to wear them. 

“Stay by my side,” Maze warned. “The entire time.” 

“Yes, yes,” he assured her, but he was eager to see the market for himself, occupied and alive, not the closed up shelters and tents that he’d seen from the wall. “Will a lot of your people be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Anyone else?”

“Any what?” 

“Others who aren’t Lilim?” 

“There are no others. Only you.” 

He nodded, expecting as much. 

“Don’t talk to anyone.” 

He’d heard this before when she’d prepared him for their walk to the wall where he stretched his wings. “I know, Maze.” 

She tied the scarf around his neck. “If you have trouble breathing, pull this up.”

“I know.” He tugged at it; the snug fit reminded him of the cord around his neck as Tiraq… He shoved the memory away. Adventure awaited him!

She held up the goggles to fasten them over his eyes, but he batted her hand away. “I can’t see with those on.” 

“If the wind picks up—”

“Maze, are we ready to go?” he interrupted and put the goggles back on the hook on the wall. 

She got herself dressed next, moving with an efficiency and dexterity that he admired. The pressure and weight and unnatural restriction of the garments annoyed him, but if wearing these inconvenient body coverings was the price he must pay to explore and experience new things, he’d pay it. He’d even pursue the skills to apply them himself. Maze often told him he dressed himself no better than a spawn, whatever that meant, so he let her dress him without argument. She _was_ faster.

Finally, _finally,_ they exited the dome and Lucifer stretched, reveling in the open space. The fat toad he was sure was a spy of Anilith rose to his feet. Those who gathered outside, a group of Lilim having a spitting contest on the lane, stopped to stare. Lucifer held his head high, unwilling to falter under their looks. 

Maze grabbed his wrist and yanked him along, ruining the effect. 

Describing the lanes of the collective as a labyrinth implied planning, forethought. This was pure chaos. Lilim added onto their domes in whatever direction suited them, and if that direction blocked off an entire section of lane, well that was someone else's problem. 

One amusing story Maze told him was about a Lilim pack who got trapped in their dome when other Lilim built over their doorway. It resulted in the shut-ins digging their way through their neighbor's wall, a fight breaking out and an entire lane pitted against each other. Good times, with plenty of sport and blood. 

He didn’t disagree; it sounded fantastically amusing, and he hoped to see such a brawl in person. 

Every building and alley was different and his focus flitted from one to the next, no attention spared for the route they took. Intricate lines and carvings decorated larger domes. One that Maze had to drag him past was lined with bones of various lengths. One bone, a column, stood taller than himself. Teeth and claws hung from chains in open doorways and clinked together ominously. 

Lilim stopped and stared down every lane they walked, just as fascinated by him as he was of them. No one interfered, but voices rose as soon as they passed. Whispered Lilim speech was much harder to understand than when they spoke outright, but he caught key phrases, such as angel, wings, feathers, and harvest. 

Short, rapid footfalls dogged them through every turn, telling Lucifer that the round one he suspected of spying followed behind. 

“Here we are.” 

They emerged from the lanes into a large open area: no domes, but shacks and tent shelters lined the square with tables set up to display their wares. A platform stage rose in the middle of the square, a cross beam prominent on top. Next to it, a crowd shouted and jeered at something obscured among them. 

He’d known by the size of the collective that a multitude of Lilim lived within the walls, but he’d never expected to see so many in one place, nor for them to be so loud. Even negotiating at the stalls required shouting. 

He took a step back as a stick swung in front of his face. The foul odor of dead flesh filled his nose as a misshapen, hunched Lilim carrying a pole with pieces of small dead creatures hanging from it waddled up to Maze. 

“Snack!” the seller shouted, but Maze snarled and showed her teeth, and he moved on. 

Maze tightened her hold on his hand and pulled him forward, passing to the side of the excited crowd. Lucifer stretched to see what they were so interested in—there it was, a fight. 

With a raucous yell, the crowd parted as one of the fighters fell, tumbling full force into Maze. She stumbled, and Lucifer reached to catch her, but the crowd reformed, surrounding the fighter again, jeering, encouraging Maze to join in the fun. 

Something tugged against his wing, and he turned, spotting a short Lilim with her fist clenched around one of his long feathers. As if healthy plumes were so easy to extract. This Lilim’s stature was slighter than the other's, and as soon as she saw Lucifer’s eyes on her, she ran. He reached out, intent on grabbing her arm, but missed. 

Something else pressed against his back and he was pushed forward. Where had they come from? The crowd was so thick now that the fighters within were obscured, and Maze was nowhere to be seen. Had she joined the fray? 

He stepped aside and around, intent on getting a better view to find her. Had he been near the sharpening hut before? 

A giant tooth rested on a chair beside the stall. It was easily the size of his arm, and Lucifer forgot about finding Maze for the moment. “Is it real?” He looked at the seller and grinned. “How big is the creature it came from? Have you seen one? Did you kill it yourself?” He reached out to touch it, and the Lilim behind the table slapped his hand. Lucifer recoiled and glared. 

The vendor’s words sounded familiar, but they weren’t pronounced the way Maze spoke them. If the Lilim talked slower…

The vendor stepped out from behind his table, brandishing a large club carved out of bone and still shouting. Lucifer stepped away, unsure how to respond. The bone club was shoved at Lucifer’s face, right up under his nose. 

Lucifer swept out his arm, knocking the offensive weapon away, and accidently causing it to snap in half. The action incensed the vendor further, his face turning a deep purple as he bared his sharpened, curved fangs. 

Lucifer turned his head to the side as the putrid breath reached his nose. “Oh, you might want to brush those sometime. Maze buys a kind of moss that you can—” 

The taunting advice was not taken kindly, and this time the bone club swung at his head. 

Lucifer blocked the blow with his arm. This was not the Spire. He was no longer at the mercy of his tormentors, and no one was going to get away with hitting him ever again.

The club struck him below the elbow, and his wings extended in full fury, curving forward, the sharp edges of the primaries threatening the merchant.

The vendor started screeching. 

Someone short and slender snuck in to the side and grabbed his wrist.

A horde of Lilim stared. Someone shouted, “_Beast attack! The beast attacked Kobar!_”

Where? What beast? _Oh_. They meant him. All eyes were on him now. This was not what he intended when he defended himself. Would the guards from the Spire be summoned? Was this enough to have him taken away from Maze? He’d suffered the consequences for defending himself from Lilim before. He hadn’t thought—but that was the problem. _He hadn’t thought._

A round female with horns pointed her clawed fingers right at him shrieking, “_Beast! Get him! Call the guard!_" 

_Beast_. He hated when they called him that. Hands grabbed at his cloak. Claws scraped against his cheek, painful and tearing at his skin. Warm blood ran down his face. 

Under the noise, a softer tone, sharp but steady, said, “Come hide with us.” The slender Lilim yanked on his arm and darted into the crowd. He flexed his wings tight against his back and chased after her. 

They raced together through a narrow path, into a tent that smelled of bitter spices, out a slit in the back, along a lane and to the right, through another passage leading to more domes darker and smaller than the ones he’d seen on the way, and into a low doorway. 

It was dark until a candle was lit and mounted on a bracket on the wall. 

The short, slender Lilim grinned, and Lucifer recognized her as the one who had pulled his feather. Three others filed into the small space, and he backed up. Was this a trap? He wouldn’t be an easy target. The dome was too narrow for him to extend his wings, so he brought up his fists, ready to defend himself. 

The slender female turned to the others, who grinned, darting and bouncing around the small space. 

They started talking, their voices rushed, higher-pitched than Maze's. They spoke too fast, the syllables rushing together. 

One of the males pulled a bone-handled knife with a sharpened tooth blade from the folds of his wrapped outerwear and held it up triumphantly, not as a threat but as though showing off a prize. The one with the ornate knife—hadn’t he seen that on the bone-seller’s table?—cheered and hopped in place. He crowed and passed the knife to the female of the group. 

Lucifer eyed the female carefully as she turned to him. He’d seen enough of the Lilim to understand that she must be the leader of the group. She spoke too fast. He caught the words "beast" and "fight." But the meaning was still unclear.

She stopped and smiled at him, teeth bared. Lucifer knew some teeth-bared smiles were friendly, and some were displays of dominance. This was friendly—he thought. The group of them jumped around more, stomping and laughing. 

He’d thought he had a better grasp of the Lilim language and frustration welled inside at his inability to understand. “Slower, I can’t follow what you’re staying!”

She glanced back at her group before stepping closer. “Your voice is strange.” The words were very slow this time, and louder. 

“So is yours,” he retorted. 

She called back to her friends. “Mazikeen taught it to talk.” That made them laugh. “You talk really good for a beast.” 

“My name is Lucifer.” 

“Is that what you are? I thought you were angel-kind?”

“I’m an angel. My _name_ is Lucifer.” 

And they found that hilarious. He’d never seen Lilim who laughed so much. Maze didn’t. The smallest male standing behind the others fell and rolled around with mirth. 

Lucifer’s wings twitched. 

“Warrior Mazikeen named her beast!” The male snorted and rocked side to side. 

Lucifer stepped around to exit, but the female jumped in his way. “Dromos told my spawn-brood about the friend-beasts lone warriors train as companions. It’s okay to name things you don’t intend to eat.” 

“I’m not a—” Lucifer began. 

The third bared his teeth and brandished a large hunk of flesh on a stick, holding it up triumphantly. “Eat!” The four of them converged and started tearing off hunks to stuff in their mouths. 

Lucifer watched with morbid fascination. 

The one with the knife wiped the blood off his lips and turned to Lucifer. “Can you do that again?” 

“Do what?”

“Start a fight!” The female reached over to grab a chunk of the flesh off the stick and held it out to him. She smiled. “Want some? You earned it.”

“No,” he said, taking a step away from the dripping dead thing. “I should head back.” 

She grabbed his hand before he could go. “No, Beast, stay, we’ve never seen anything like you before. Talk more; your voice is funny.” 

“I told you, my _name _is Lucifer.” 

“Fraq,” she introduced herself. She was sticky. When she let him go, he wiped his hand on his cloak to get rid of whatever it was he’d contracted from her. 

A yell and a crash from outside the dome stopped him. It was the vendor from the market. The seller rushed in, swinging a large sword. The tip clanged against the wall on his backswing. The Lilim scurried across the room to avoid getting slashed, but not before Fraq cried out in pain. 

Lucifer stepped forward, wings extending despite the small space. “Enough.” 

The bone and tooth seller growled at him with disdain, “A beast has no right speaking—”

Anger surged within Lucifer as he lost his temper. He was tired of being called a beast, tired of being threatened, and this bone seller had hurt these unthreatening little Lilim! Flames ignited under his skin, blistering. Heat spread over his body, shifting his skin as the glamour burned away and the horrifying, raw, scarred skin emerged. 

The vendor stumbled back. The sword clattered to the floor as his grip went slack on the weapon. 

Lucifer advanced. “You will _not—_”

“Lucifer!” Maze appeared in the doorway, grabbed the vendor by the back of his clothing, and yanked him out the door into the lane. 

At Maze’s voice, Lucifer stepped back. The heat built up in his body extinguished. His skin smoothed and concealed under the glamour of his former self.

And his wings vanished. 

Not flexed and retracted. Vanished. Gone! The change in his center of gravity knocked him off balance, and he stumbled into the wall.

The four Lilim around him scurried out the door and scattered. He could still hear Maze yelling at the vendor outside. Lucifer stood alone in the small dilapidated dome. Without his wings. He couldn’t catch his breath. His wings were gone. _Where had they gone?_

Not inside his body. He rolled his shoulders trying to feel—

And with a whoosh of air they unfurled, complete and whole and real. 

Unsteadily, he rolled his shoulders, barely daring to think—

Another whoosh of air. He felt them recede—to where? Somewhere away. Somewhere he could feel them waiting to be released again. 

Maze re-entered the dome and grabbed his arm, jerking him forward to follow her. She didn’t ask about the wings, or their disappearance. She didn’t even look at him. Her face crumpled in a way he'd learned to recognize as angry. And was it any wonder? She’d warned him to stay close, not to speak to other Lilim, and what had he done? Not only did he upset one of them, but he’d attacked them. He wasn’t difficult to identify. There were bound to be consequences.

Out in the lane the vendor was nowhere to be seen.

“Maze—”

“Not now,” Maze growled, as she continued to drag him, stumbling and unbalanced, through the lanes and passages. 

Nothing looked familiar. This wasn’t the way she’d brought him to the market. Were there other ways? Was she taking him somewhere else? 

Relief flooded through him at the sight of Maze’s dome.

She pushed him through a door and he blinked against the sudden darkness. 

Maze grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, her hand on his back. “Who did this to you?” 

“Maze, I can’t see in the dark,” he said impatiently. 

She pulled away from him and struck fire stones. Light flared and a candle lit. 

He sighed with relief, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. 

Maze’s hands were on him, pulling at his clothes to expose his back as she prodded at his shoulder blades. 

Oh, his wings. Of course she was worried about that. She’d be furious if he lost the one part of him the Lilim valued. 

It shocked him too. If he could do this all along, why couldn’t he have learned it earlier? Like before his enemies at the Spire tore out his feathers. 

Lucifer stepped back and rolled his shoulders, unfurling his wings to show he still had them. The action was easier every time he tried it. He made a conscious effort not to pull away as she reached out to touch a feather, but couldn’t control the nervous twitch of the wing as she did so. 

A moment later she punched his arm. Hard. “Have you been able to do this all along?”

“No. I didn’t know.” The force of her punch would leave a bruise, but he didn't shy away. Another roll of the shoulder allowed him to draw them back in, to whatever place they went to when they disappeared. 

The heat that had run through him when he’d shifted back to his scarred appearance had disappeared when his glamour returned. All that was left was a tingling sensation over his skin from the blazing pain fueled by his anger. The sudden dousing of his inner fire left him feeling chilled and hollowed out. 

Maze reached for his hand, her touch gentle this time. “I couldn’t find you—” she started but broke off. “You’re cold. Why are you so cold?” The heat of her touch burned. 

The rapid cycling of Maze’s mood left him feeling uncertain, and he remained standing where he was when she turned away to start the hearth fire.

“Maze?” As much as he’d wanted to experience Lilim life beyond Mazikeen’s dome, he wanted nothing so much as to return to the comfort and familiarity of Maze’s attention. “The vendor—” 

“You did well.” She got up and draped a blanket over his shoulders and led him to sit. 

What? 

“Word about the beating you gave Kobar has already spread through the collective.” She grinned and slapped his shoulder. 

“But I didn’t.” 

Maze smirked. “What would you call breaking the bone seller’s club in the square? You scared him so bad he dropped his sword and wet himself. You didn’t even have to touch him.”

“What about the Spire? _Consequences_?” 

Maze spat. “The Spire takes no interest in the personal interactions of Lilim.” 

“I’m not Lilim.”

“I’m Lilim, and you’re mine. An insult to you is an insult to me.” She turned and regarded him. “You are unharmed? Did that motherless swine strike you?” 

“I blocked his attack, I’m fine.” 

“Good.” She placed her hand over his and grinned, all teeth. “How did you enjoy your first trip to the market?”


	2. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer returns to the market. It goes about as well as expected.

“Maze, I want to go back to the market.” 

“We just went. Wasn’t the incident last time enough?”

“I didn’t get to look at anything last time.” Lucifer rolled onto his back, a much easier maneuver since learning to tuck his wings away, and resisted the urge to grumble. “It’s been five ashfalls since you took me. We haven’t even gone to the wall since.” 

“I thought you’d be done with the urge to explore.” 

He wasn’t defenseless like he’d been before. With the damage to his wings finally healed, and his divinity laced feathers re-grown, he'd even discovered that he could hide them away. He stared at Maze from the corner of his eye and let out a long sigh. “I do not enjoy being trapped in here all the time.” 

“No one is trapping you,” she answered in a bored tone. 

“I’m not exactly free to leave either, am I? Take me back to the market, Maze.”

“I don’t need anything.” 

“I’ll go by myself.” 

“Good luck with that.” 

“You don’t think I can?” 

“I never said that. I said good luck.” 

“And…you won't stop me?” 

“Why would I? Like I said, you’re not trapped here.” 

He sat up. “Okay.” That meant he had to get dressed. He chose the tunic and leggings instead of the chiton wrap and pulled on his cloak. 

“Don’t forget sandals,” Maze reminded him. 

Sandals. He sat to put them on. How did Maze do the string around his foot? He did it, sort of, and stood up, only to have the sandal fall off his foot. Maze glanced over and groaned. “Stand still, I’ll do it.” 

She undid the mess he made and wrapped it properly. He tried to watch her fingers do the movements, but she was too fast. But it was done and secure. The ties weren’t going to unravel now. 

Maze gave him coins. “You can get lunch from a vendor in the square. You remember the way?” 

“Of course.” He knew the general direction. He was sure he’d recognise landmarks along the way. How hard could it be? 

* * *

He wasn’t lost. He knew exactly where he was in relation to the Spire. 

The Spire loomed over all other structures. There was nowhere in the collective that it wasn’t visible. The market should be to the right of it. 

Logically, if he continued taking the lanes that led in the direction he intended, he should be able to get to where he wanted to go. 

But there was no logic to this. Everything around him was unfamiliar. He’d taken a lane that twisted around and now the Spire was at his back. If he found a way to switch lanes… But the domes here pressed together, leaving no room to sneak between. Maybe if he turned around, he’d find a passageway he’d missed earlier…

He paused and looked around. An intense sensation of being watched set his nerves on edge. 

There was Anilith’s spy. He stood in the distance and looked away every time Lucifer turned towards him. The lackey was useless; he’d tried to ask him for directions and in response the short Lilim had curled up into a ball and pretended to be a rock. 

It was no wonder he felt like he was being watched. The useless spy notwithstanding, the Lilim he walked past stared, as they always did. Even with his wings hidden, they instantly recognized him as _not one of them_. 

The whispers rose in volume as he moved through the streets. Maybe they thought he couldn’t hear them, but he doubted they cared. 

No, he suspected they said the things they did because they _knew_ he heard them. 

_There it is, the beast._

_Where’s its handler?_

_You’ll be cursed, don’t let it touch you. _

_It corrupts the air it breathes._

_Did you hear it didn’t rot when it died? _

Lucifer walked on and ignored the taunts. There was so much else to pay attention to. 

He was forced to live here, in this wasteland, but he would not let it destroy him. The stench and filth and disorder around him… He couldn’t help but be intrigued by it. How could a city not be planned? The rough domes the Lilim made for themselves scattered haphazardly in every direction, with no consideration for the lanes or neighbors. 

The random chaos of it brought a smile to his lips. It was so different from… 

He rejected thoughts of the Silver City. Not with all this to explore. 

This chaos, the anarchy of everyone doing what they wanted, when they wanted, and how, it was intoxicating. 

He stopped when he came to another dead end. This should’ve been the correct way. Maybe if he backtracked, found a different turn, another lane might lead him in the correct direction. 

And again he had the sense that he wasn’t alone...

A rock landed near his foot and he stilled, alert and rigid, as he searched for the source of the potential threat. But there was only laughter. 

“Where are you going?” 

The short, slender Lilim group that had pulled him away from the commotion in the market square slunk along behind, all four of them, careful not to move too near any of the lounging Lilim around them. 

Lucifer sighed. “The market.”

“You’re going the wrong way.” 

“Then where is the right way?”

The loud female of the bunch eyed him. “What do we get out of it if we show you?” 

“My gratitude?” 

They laughed and scattered. Lucifer searched for them, but they knew their way around these buildings far too well. So be it. He’d find his own way. Eventually. He backtracked, turned left instead of right, and found himself headed away from the Spire instead of toward it. Fine. Maybe going contradictory to logic was the way to go. Using logic to navigate the lanes hadn’t worked so far. 

The path took him toward the wall. This wasn’t the part of the wall Maze took him to, but it wasn’t any less dilapidated. He walked slower, staring. The domes looked ready to collapse, but Lilim still lived in them. A growl rumbled from the open door of the nearest one and he moved on.

A small crowd had formed behind him, following at a distance. He’d thought nothing of it when there were two Lilim following, the annoying ones were still gone, and now there were five more he didn’t recognise. He turned at the next lane; they tagged at his heels. 

“Show us your wings!” a low guttural voice taunted him. 

Lucifer stopped and turned to face them. They’d grown bold. Hadn’t they heard about his escapade in the market and Maze’s threat that an offense against him was an offense against her? But Maze wasn’t with him now, was she?

Better to face them head-on. 

These Lilim were different. No two Lilim seemed to look alike, and they all had certain irregular features: exposed bone, fangs, claws, fur, horns, spines. The exposed bone covering half of Maze’s face had a captivating asymmetrical beauty. These Lilims' unique features fascinated him in both quantity and quality. The burly one at the front stooped forward with spines rising out of his back, his arms so long his knuckles touched the ground, and large teeth jutted up from his bottom jaw. 

The big Lilim lumbered forward, mouth open and teeth bared in a show of dominance. “Show us the angel wings!” 

“These?” he asked, relaxing the hold on his wings, allowing them to release into existence with a powerful flourish. 

The group of Lilim stepped back. Lucifer smiled and took a step toward them. A roundish Lilim with a long tail growled and crouched low, as though ready to pounce. 

He hadn’t expected an actual fight. But, if they wanted to test him, _good, bring it on_. He was tired of listening to taunts and insults whispered behind his back. He could fight. He’d show them an angel’s true strength. Or, what he had left of it.

Lucifer relished the surge of power welling inside him, and his wings flexed in anticipation. Light reflected off drifting ash as his feathers took on a luminous glow, and the group of Lilim shielded their eyes. They didn’t retreat. He extended his wings up as far as he could reach, still frustratingly stiff and slow, but he was the only one aware of that. 

They stared, open-jawed. 

He was ready. Lucifer swooshed his wings down in a powerful motion, lifting ash in a swirling, deadly cloud, and sent the Lilim standing in the front of the crowd flying backward. 

This time they fled. Lucifer held his wings out offensively for a heartbeat longer before sweeping them back and hiding them with a roll of his shoulders. He coughed and brushed at his clothes to get rid of the ash that he’d stirred and sighed. The lane was empty now, and he was just as lost as he’d been before. 

Except for the infuriating feeling of being watched. 

“Show yourself! I know you’re there!” he shouted. 

Rapid footsteps approached him from behind. 

“Do it again!”

Lucifer turned to face the speaker, a scrawny male from the group of annoying small Lilim who’d been tailing him earlier. “Go away.” 

All four of them were poking their heads out of their hiding spots now. “You’re going the wrong way," the smallest called out in a sing-song tone.

He stopped walking. At this point, he’d backtracked so many times he wasn’t sure if he could find his way back to Maze’s dome. He was lost; two knuckles' worth of ash lay on the ground, and he wasn’t any closer to getting where he wanted to go. He turned around kept walking.

“Why don’t you fly?” the female asked, skipping up to his side. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“You can’t, can you?” she taunted. “What are the wings for if you can’t use them to fly?” 

“I can fly.” 

“If you could, you wouldn’t be walking.” 

She had a point. Lucifer resisted the itch to spread his wings. “I can’t fly _right now_. But I _can_ fly.” 

“Why can’t you fly?” she asked, smirking.

He wish he knew. “Do you ever stop?” 

They made whooping noises that he assumed were another form of laughter. He sighed. “What do you want in return for escorting me to the market?” 

“A favor.” 

“And that’s not an answer.” He swiveled between the paths. If he went right… No. He recognised the dead thing hanging on the spike down the lane. He’d been that way. 

“Distract the vendors like you did that other time,” she suggested. Her three cohorts bobbed their heads in agreement. 

“I didn’t do that on purpose.” He chose the left path, the way he hadn’t gone before. 

“You’re going the wrong way.” 

He let out an exasperated breath and stopped. “What kind of distraction?” 

“We need everyone distracted from their stalls long enough to grab what we want and get out.” 

“Why should they care what I’m doing?” 

She snickered. “Everyone wants to know what you’re doing. Haven’t you noticed?” 

It would be hard not to. “And when they figure out what I’ve done, what then?” 

“They’ll admire our ingenuity,” she stated, chest puffing out with pride. 

That gave him pause. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Not only will we have snatched their wares out from under their snouts, but we’ll have enlisted the help of Mazikeen’s beast. We’ll be infamous.” 

“I told you before, my name is Lucifer.” 

The Lilim rolled her eyes. “Do you remember my name?” 

“Fraq.” 

She grinned and showed off her sharp fangs. “Do we have a deal?” 

“Yes. Now, how do we get to the market?” Lucifer asked. 

They laughed and turned around, heading the way he’d chosen before they told him he was going the wrong way. He grumbled but followed. 

They reached a dead end and Lucifer scoffed. “You don’t know where you’re going either.” 

“This way,” Fraq said. She climbed the side of a dome. Lucifer paused, and she waved him along. “Quick.” 

He saw the step chipped out of the dome and placed his foot on it. “Like this?” 

One of the males behind him started hopping. “Quick, quick,” he panted and pushed at Lucifer’s back. Lucifer glanced behind and saw a group of Lilim approaching. The one in front sported myriad nubbins of horns along the ridges of his bald head. He brandished a club. That answered Lucifer’s next question. He gripped the side of the dome and tried to hoist himself up like Fraq did, but his foot slipped out of his sandal. 

He kicked them off, grabbed them, and climbed with bare feet instead. The rough stone and clay cut into his skin, but at least he had a modicum of grace when he felt the ground under him. 

Fraq grabbed his wrist and pulled him along the lane and into a crumbling, deserted dome to hide. She crouched beside the door, listening before letting out a puff of breath and turning to him. “That was crazy. Why did you take off your sandals?” She didn’t wait for an answer, she just shook her head. “Hurry, put them back on. We should go before anyone else comes along.” 

“What about the others?” 

She peeked out the door and glanced both ways. “They know where to go, I’m sure they’ll meet us at the market.” 

Lucifer wiped the blood off the bottom of his feet, wincing at the ash that got into the stinging cuts. 

“Hurry up,” she urged him. She frowned as she watched him bend to tie the thing back on his foot. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He laced the ends and wrapped them over. 

Fraq snorted. “You’re like a spawn,” she giggled and crouched in front of him. “Not like that. Like this.” She took over and twisted the strings around his foot. “See?” 

No. He didn’t see at all. Foot coverings only got in the way and walking was severely overrated. How any of these creatures got anywhere by moving on their legs was beyond him. 

At least the sandals were secure now. 

Fraq tugged him out of the dome and scurried along the lane. “Why did your handler send you to the market alone?” 

Lucifer shook off her hand, but she latched back onto his wrist a moment later. “First, Maze is not my handler.” 

She snorted and spat on the ground. “Maze? You call the warrior Mazikeen ‘Maze’?”

He ignored that. “Second, I don’t need permission to leave the dome.” Once again, he shook off her hand from his wrist.

“You can’t even tie your own sandals. There’s no way any nest minder would let a whelp out without knowing how to cover their feet properly.”

The deal he made for an escort to the market was getting less enticing every time the slender Lilim opened her mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Exactly,” she answered, smug as can be. 

She re-grabbed his hand with her perpetually sticky paw and pulled him to the far side of the lane as they passed a large, ornate dome with various Lilim lounging out front of it. “What is this place?” There were columns near the front entrance, and carvings of various unique anatomic bits and pieces fit snugly against each other. He slowed to inspect. 

Fraq tugged him along and averted her gaze from the entrance of the dome as they hurried past. “Come, we can’t stop here. Throwbacks keep to their own kind.” 

“Kind?” He whipped his head around trying to see what she referred to, but he only saw more Lilim, fangs and claws hanging out in all their monstrous splendor. “I thought Lilim were the only kind in the collective.” 

“No, I mean,” she began, bringing her voice to a whisper. “Throwbacks. You’ve noticed we don’t all look similar.”

“Fangs, horns, hooves, the teeth. It’s difficult not to notice.”

“Throwbacks live around here.”

“Non-Lilim?” 

“No, of course not. Still us, but, less like The Mother. Monstrous, like the First-Sires.” 

That made no sense. Fraq glanced to the side, and pointed to her face, the side with the larger, yellow and black slit eye. “Like this, but all over.” 

Lucifer tried to turn to continue examining the carvings, but Fraq yanked him forward. “It’s not far from here to the lane that’ll take us to the market. You’ll hold up your part of the deal?” 

“Yes, yes.” He tore his arm away from her. “There’s one thing I need to do before I make your distraction for you.” 

She grinned and hopped as she skipped ahead. “This is it, follow this lane and turn right at the weaver.” And she ran off. 

He followed the directions, turning where she said and sure enough, there it was. Finally. He spotted the tool vendor across the square and headed that way. 

The seller clicked her claws on the surface of her table. “No beasts.”

He placed Maze’s coin on the table. “For Maze—Mazikeen.” Her full name did not sound right as he spoke it. By the smirk on the seller’s face, he’d badly fumbled the pronunciation. 

The seller spat to the side, her lip fat with something that turned her spit dark brown. “What does Mazikeen want?”

He pointed at a metal spike Maze used for poking holes into hide. He forgot the name. “The tool for poking holes,” he explained and pointed. 

The seller followed his line of sight to the box and then stared at Lucifer. “You mean the punch awl? Nah, we don’t have any of those.” 

Lucifer clenched his jaw. It was right there, what did she mean she didn’t have any? “You would refuse a sale to Mazikeen?”

The seller spat near Lucifer’s feet and turned away, refusing to acknowledge him. 

No. He’d spent two knuckles…three now, of ashfall trying to get here, and he wouldn’t be deterred so easily. What other stalls might have the tool he needed? He didn’t bother going near the bone trophy seller or the dead flesh tables. A stall across the square sold finished products. He headed there. 

The vendor turned her back.

Indignation burned within him. He turned and surveyed the market. Why had he assumed it would be easy? Fine. He spotted the slender Lilim he’d made the deal with lurking at the exit to the lane; the three smaller males were back with her. 

A deal was a deal. 

The Lilim glanced at him, snickering. These were the same whispers he always heard when he came outside, _beast, where are his wings, what happened to his beast face? How dare the beast pretend to be like The Mother? _

He wasn’t pretending to be anyone. 

Did they want to see him? Good. 

An old platform stood in the middle of the square. He recognised what was on it from his imprisonment in the Spire. Crossbars with chains on the ends. For whipping. It stood in the center of the market on a raised platform. As a warning or as entertainment? Both? 

The sight of the contraption fueled his anger. Traz and Tiraq had found plenty of uses beyond whipping for the thing. He drew in several deep, slow breaths, letting the anger roll through him.

He had promised a distraction; he’d deliver it. With a roll of his shoulders, he released his wings. It was a physical relief to allow them to manifest as they should be. He stretched his wings into extension, crouched and used them for extra momentum as he leaped up to the platform above. The stiffness ached deep in his bones as he used them to leave the ground, but he ignored it. 

On top of the platform, the crossed whipping post behind him, he flared out his wings and looked at the Lilim in the market square and waited for the ash to settle.

He smiled, baring his teeth in the dominant fashion. Everyone was talking at once. That wouldn’t do. “Hello, Lilim!” he shouted. His heart beat in a furious rhythm, energy and excitement surged through him as he used his power to project his voice. The crowd quieted. 

“I’m sure you recognise me,” he started and ignored the angry shout from the side for someone to grab him and drag him off the platform. _How dare the beast speak Lilim!_

Well, he’d only just begun. “I’d like to clear up some confusion. My name is Lucifer. I’m an angel, not a _beast_. I am alive, thank you very much. Now, I’ve heard plenty of whispering. You’ve got questions, haven’t you? Don’t be shy. What do you want to know?” 

“Where’s your handler?” a screechy voice called from the crowd. “Get him down!” 

A rock flew up from the crowd. He dodged it with ease and smirked. “Any other questions?” 

“Where’d your skin go!” 

He frowned. But, he’d asked for questions. “Do you want to see the _real _me?”

A scuffle drew his attention to the rock’s point of origin. Beyond the crowd, he spotted his little guide ducking behind the leather workers’ table. He smiled. 

They wanted a show? He reached for the darkness within himself, let the heat build within his chest and burst forth over his body. Pain rushed over his skin, but only for a moment, as it changed him. He heard shrieks and exclamations, he certainly had their attention now and he scanned the crowd, pleased at the fear he saw there. Good. They thought of him as nothing more than a beast? Let them be afraid.

Deep within the crowd, he saw a familiar face.

Maze. 

What was she doing here? He glanced at his hand, the glamour of his perfect unblemished hand back in place, and back up at Maze making her way toward him. 

And the crowd howled in protest. Lucifer jumped down from the platform, his wings spread to control his descent and shrugged them back into hiding as he landed. 

“Did you get what you came for?” Maze asked. 

He glanced to the right. The leatherworker’s stall was empty, and the small Lilim who had helped him were gone. His distraction was successful. The words didn’t come when he opened his mouth to tell Maze that the vendor had refused to do business with him. A small shoulder bumped into the back of his elbow and a thin piece of metal pressed against his hand. He gripped it and spotted one of the little males disappearing into the crowd.

“I did what I had to,” he told her, flashing the punch awl before shoving it into his bag. But something nagged at him. That sensation of being watched that he’d had earlier, throughout the entire ashfall, had gone away. “It was you, wasn’t it?” 

“Was what me?” 

“Have you been following me this entire time?” 

“Why would I do that?” 

Why indeed? The taunts of being reined in by his _handler_ echoed in his mind all the way home. 


	3. Stir Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's continued adventures in blundering through every situation he finds himself in!

Lucifer hated being cooped up in the dome. Even with the hearth fire, the perpetual dimness was oppressive. He hated the lack of space to stretch out and how the walls closed in on him. He hated the smell of the moss burning in the hearth and the putrid scent of Maze’s dead-flesh-food hanging on the wall. He paced back and forth, three steps one way, three steps the other. 

Not that outside was any better. Everything was gray and had a layer of dark grime on it, and if you stood in place for longer than five heartbeats, ash settled in your hair and on your cloak.

Maze sat in the corner doing her leather craft and carving patterns into the hide with a knife tool. 

She must be sick of him by now. He knew he was useless and a burden. What choice did he have? The vendors at the market refused to trade with him. He didn’t know his way around the ridiculous lanes in the collective. He didn’t belong here. 

He didn’t belong anywhere.

Lucifer glared up at the ceiling. Praying accomplished nothing. He hadn’t felt his Father’s presence since...

And he would _not_ think about that. 

But what else was there to think about? He didn’t want to craft. What was the point? He wasted leather and broke tools he couldn’t replace. Maze’s leather smoothing thing—whatever she called it—was the latest casualty of his effort to be productive. Everything he did was a waste. 

Lucifer needed to go for a walk. He could go to the wall and stretch his wings. They’d gone that route enough times that he should be able to navigate alone. If only he could fly again...

Why was it taking so long to heal? He could barely hold his wings aloft for longer than five breaths without shaking with fatigue. How could he get back into the air if he couldn’t hold his wings up? 

The sandals were a bother, as always. He sat and weaved the string around his foot and ankle, trying to copy the same pattern Maze made. His fingers fumbled, the twists were too loose, and the sandal slid off when he took his first step. 

Maze looked up. “Hold on. I’ll do it for you.”

Anger boiled within him at the offer. “I can do it myself.” 

“I can do it better.” 

He knew she could; that wasn’t the point. He glared at her, and his eyes shifted and burned for a moment before he realized and blinked it away. 

Maze grinned at his frustration, which only made him more frustrated. 

“Suit yourself,” she said. 

When he retied it, the anger inside prompted him to pull the string too tight. It dug uncomfortably into his skin, but at least it stayed on. That done, he adjusted his tunic, wrapped the outer cloak around his shoulders and pulled up the hood. 

“Give me a few flakes of ash and I’ll come with you.” Maze set her work aside and started getting dressed. 

“I’ll be fine on my own.” 

She gave him a skeptical look. “Last time you said that you got lost.” 

“I’m only going to the wall. I know the way.” 

“I’ll join you.” 

“No. I can handle myself.”

“Handle yourself?” She smirked and rolled her eyes. 

What was so funny?

She reached for her sandals. “You have no idea what’s out there.” 

“Don’t underestimate me, Maze. I’m more capable than you think.” This time when his eyes flared, he didn’t blink it away. 

She grinned and set the sandals aside. “Fine. Have fun. Want me to come find you when you aren’t back by wind rise?” 

“Go choke on a slug,” he grumbled and headed out the door, annoyed even further when her laughter followed him. 

Anger fueled him to walk faster the first few lanes, his mind set on Maze. She wouldn’t be so inclined to dismiss his abilities if she’d known him in the Silver City. If he had full function of his wings, if he understood the Lilim language better, if anything about this place wasn’t foreign and difficult. 

What was this place? His power should have returned, fueled as it was by divinity in his wings, but something still pulled on him, drained him.

Was she following him, as she had the ashfall he went to the market on his own? The fat little Spire spy was there as always, but he didn’t sense anyone else. 

What if Maze was right? He didn’t know what was out here. 

He picked his way through the lanes toward the wall, noting that the domes became more dilapidated the further he walked. In contrast, the Lilim he passed looked more interesting. Seeing all the variations in claws and fangs and other characteristics was his favorite thing about the Lilim. Throwbacks, Fraq called them. The way Fraq described made it sound like monstrous features were a bad thing. But Lucifer grinned. Fascinating, he called them.

Maze was wrong. He could handle himself fine. He was one of the Host, a leader among angels. Or had been. 

The Lightbringer. 

Confidence welled, and he straightened his shoulders and let out his wings. At full strength, he was stronger than any Lilim. 

A nagging doubt chewed on the corner of his thoughts. He _wasn’t_ at full strength, though, was he? Hadn’t been for quite some time. At first, he’d thought it was because his wings were damaged, because of the continual violation of his feathers. But, no, he was healed now, and he still felt weakened. As if the very land itself sapped his vitality. 

Or he was being melodramatic? 

Without Maze to hurry him along, he took his time. Up ahead, a group of Lilim sat in the lane, drinking from a flask. Their conversation halted as they stared. 

There were far more Lilim in the lanes this early in the ashfall compared to when Maze brought him out to the wall close to wind rise.

Groups of Lilim sat smoking, throwing— were those teeth?— into a circle. Cheers went up depending on how they landed. Lucifer edged closer, trying to figure out the game, only to have them glare and spit on the ground until he moved on. 

Another group under a hide awning wrestled without their clothing. He stopped to watch. He hadn’t seen Lilim forego clothing outdoors before, but they appeared to enjoy the sport. They looked up at him, snickering. 

“The beast wants to join us!” the one on the bottom who, though losing, seemed to be having the most fun. The apparent loser moaned and reached out, making a grabby hand. He’d wrestled and engaged in other contests of strength with his siblings, but he’d never enjoyed losing before.

“What’s it look like without its clothes?” The scaled one on the top grunted and stood up, reaching for him. 

Lucifer took a step back, and the Lilim erupted in a new round of raucous laughter. It wasn’t an invitation. The threat in the naked Lilim’s voice was clear, but he wasn’t sure what the threat was. 

He didn’t feel like wrestling, anyway. 

Lilim shouted and laughed in the distance. Lucifer paused. The sounds were coming from the other side of a row of domes blocking the way. But there was space between two of the Lilim shelters he could squeeze through. So long as he remembered the way back it wouldn’t hurt to look. He climbed through but needed to disappear his wings to maneuver in the small space. 

His sandal slid in a patch of mud, and he shook his foot in annoyance. No. That wasn’t mud. The carcass of a knee-high roundish animal with jutting tusks lay discarded on the ground beside the lane. A puddle of blood formed around it. 

What were the Lilim hollering about? Lucifer crept forward. The voices came from ahead. 

_“Get it! Get the beast!”_ someone shouted. Lucifer dropped into a defensive stance, Get him? Why? He hadn’t done anything— 

But, no. The gathered Lilim jeered at something on the ground. A high-pitched squeal filled the air. They parted, and another smallish round creature like the one lying dead in the lane burst forth. Foam dripped from its mouth. Its eyes were wild and bloodshot. Sharpened sticks protruded from its hide. Lilim turned and howled, chasing it as it fled bleeding. 

He ducked through the door of a dome until the swarm of Lilim passed by, yells of _“Catch the beast! Spill its blood!” _echoing through the lane. 

_Beast._ The Lilim called him the same. Was this what Lilim did to non-Lilim? Killed them for fun, ate their flesh? 

It was only after they passed that Lucifer took note of the dome he’d ducked into. Various weapons adorned the walls, whips and knives, a few swords. A large Lilim, knife in hand, stood stooped over a table by the far wall. His claws rivaled the knife’s blade in length, making the weapon look redundant. 

“Lost?” Despite the Lilim’s size, his voice was quiet and high-pitched. 

Lucifer faced him, his thoughts full of the beast stabbing party he’d seen, and considered his options to flee or fight. 

“Not lost.” He kept his voice firm and steady, even as his back itched to release his wings in defence. 

“But not where you should be, are you? Come to see my wares?” 

Lucifer examined the displayed products. The knives were expertly crafted. Even the Silver City would be lucky to possess weapons so artfully adorned. His interest in the surrounding crafts overshadowed the impending threat. He studied the finely carved looping designs on the hilt of one of the knives. “Do you carve these yourself?” 

“What of it?” The Lilim growled and took a step forward. At full height, he was taller than Lucifer and far broader.

Lucifer dragged his gaze away from the design. “I like how the lines flow. It’s difficult to see where one ends and another begins. It’s good work.” 

The Lilim stopped and his expression shifted, eyes growing wider and jaw unclenching. “You like them?” 

“I don’t lie. See,” he said, pointing to a whip. “The same, but different. Do you plan them out before or create them as you go along?” 

“They just come to me, no plan.” 

Lucifer ran a finger along a blade. It was cool to the touch. “Thin and strong. Do you also shape the metal? What do you call it?” 

“Forging. Yes.” 

“Why don’t you sell with the other vendors?” Lucifer asked, and when he looked back at the Lilim, he saw his expression grow dark. Not an appropriate question, apparently. “Right. Well. I’ll be off,” he said, and checked that the lane was empty.

“Angel.” 

Lucifer stilled, surprised, but pleased, to be called something other than _beast_. 

“Throwbacks don’t trade at the market.” 

“Nor do beasts, apparently.” 

The seller harrumphed. “Find Rillam. She will trade with you. She’s the hide trader with the scaly face, green hair; wears a metal pendant with a red stone in the center. Tell her Tyndale sent you.” 

“I will.” It was worth a try. Lucifer walked into the vacant lane and searched for the space between domes to get back to the route he was familiar with. 

In the deserted region nearest the wall; the domes were burnt husks, unsuitable for providing shelter. Maze always rushed him through this region more than anywhere else, claiming it was cursed. 

She never explained why it was cursed, and the word meant little to him. The guards at the Spire had called him a 'cursed beast'. What made a thing cursed? It was enough to scare the Lilim. Enough to let him starve rather than risk entering his cell to give him food. 

They'd left him no choice but to escape.

Calling something cursed was an excuse to avoid it. What was the region cursed with? Nothing tugged at the power inside him like when the storm had called to him. He released his wings and tapped into the divinity within to sense underlying currents of power. There was nothing. He slowed. The domes were empty. Nothing prevented him from exploring them. There was no curse here. 

Curiosity led him to investigate the domes closer. The interior of the nearest was charred and ash-covered. He kicked at the ash, hitting something solid with his toe, and bent to inspect it. A skull? It was brittle and blackened, partially destroyed. How long had it lain here? Upon searching other domes in the vicinity, he found more remains. Not only a fire, but a fire where many Lilim had died. He’d never seen corpses of Lilim elsewhere within the collective, why hadn’t they been cleared away here? 

Was it the bones that made this place cursed? Bones or not, there was no power here. 

Lucifer came to an area of ruined, not just burned, shelters and studied these more carefully. Long slashes marred the wrecked domes and the nearby ground. He found another set of gashes in the ground a lane away. No similar tracks existed between them. His wings twitched and unfurled as he looked up into the dim above. 

A flying creature did this? Not Lilim. What kind of beast could do this? 

He picked his way toward the wall and climbed up. The carved stairs were rounded and worn down. He gazed over the landscape beyond with new eyes. What else was out there? There were watchtowers to the east and west, but none here. Maze had explained it was because of the land. It was impossible to traverse the deep crags and fissures. By land. But something had attacked from the air, hadn’t it? Why not watch for that? 

He pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth; the wind blew stronger up here. Confident he was alone, he extended his wings and held them out, breathing slow, steady. 

Three breaths and his muscles shook with fatigue. He held them up a breath longer before letting them drop and relax. His back muscles were cramped from the tension. 

Breathe through it. 

It brought him back to those first ashfalls after Maze had rescued him from being bound beneath the Spire. Stabbing pains had run through his entire body as he started to recover. Even regaining the strength to walk had been a slow process. 

He hadn’t flown since long before being cast out the gates. Not since the day he defied his Father. How long had he been confined before being dragged up to his Father’s throne? Before learning what the _mercy_ of his Father meant. Before the punishment was declared and he was cast down.

A shudder coursed through him. Of all the mighty feats he’d performed in his long life, reclaiming his mobility ranked among his most proud achievements. Reclaiming the air would be just as monumental. He imagined the swell of pride he’d feel taking to the air once more. 

He squared his shoulders and extended his wings. 

Not yet, but soon. 

He knew it was time to return to Maze when the visibility over the plains grew dim. The deserted domes stood silent as he found his path back. Echoes of screams swept through the dark interiors. No power called to him from it. He stopped to listen. The sounds weren’t real, only the wind and ash echoing among the ruins. All the same, he walked faster to make his way to the inhabited areas, and back home to Maze. 


	4. Everybody Hates Squee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer learns how to tie his shoes... and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content - first time, in this chapter, see end note for additional information, if needed.

When he returned from the cursed place, she hadn't said anything, but she'd been dressed to leave, and her gruffness told him she'd been worried. 

Maze stayed home for an entire hand of ashfalls. She didn’t prevent him from going out. He didn’t suggest it either. The otherness and disconnect of this place was starting to wear on him. There were too many unanswered questions, what was he here, what did the Lilim ultimately plan to do with him? 

He pushed, as he always did, and waited for Maze to lose her temper. Eventually, he’d push her away, the same as everyone else. His brothers and sisters had stood silent; his mother had turned away. His family rejected him, so what chance was there that Maze would be any different? 

It was his usual rant that marked the end of her patience. Body wrappings were too restrictive. Why don’t the Lilim wear them simply draped over their bodies rather than tightly sewn and too snug? If clothes were to protect against ash, why bother wearing them indoors? 

She clenched her fists and breathed heavily through her nose. She stalked over to him and he braced for the inevitable. 

“Stay here. I’m going out.” 

Just as he expected. Out. Without him. He’d provoked her. 

She paused once before walking out the door. “I’m coming back, Lucifer.”

Of course, she was. This was _her_ dome. “_Go_. I’ll count my breaths until your return.” 

If anyone were to be expelled it would be him. Sooner or later that day would come.

She spun away and stalked out without responding. He flopped onto the bedroll. Now what? 

Could he make it up to her? There was literally nothing he could do that she couldn’t do better herself. He couldn’t even go to the market and buy the things she needed… but wait. Yes, he could. 

_Rillam_. The weapon maker had told him there was a vendor who might deal with him.

He grinned. He could go back to the market. Maze needed a new burnisher; yet another item of hers he broke. It would be a contribution. An offering of peace. 

And the bonus was, maybe he’d find someone, anyone other than Maze, to treat him like a person. 

The blasted sandals were impossible to master but he found if he wove the strings together enough times, they usually held in place long enough to do what he needed. He dug through his finished leatherwork pieces in his storage box and hoped they were good enough for trading. 

This time he found the way to the market without getting lost. The trick was to follow the most populated lanes. Each time he visited the square the chaos and press of Lilim seemed less overwhelming. He skirted a fight, avoided an argument that broke out into a screeching, howling match behind him, and at last, spotted a seller with green hair. 

She eyed him with caution as he approached, but she didn’t spit on the ground and turn away. “Angel,” she said, her eyes darting past him. Was she checking who saw her talking to him? He pulled his hood further over his head as an inadequate disguise and tried not to show his relief at not being called ‘beast’.

“Tyndale sent me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Tyndale? How did such as you find your way to his stall? Does your handler not teach you where not to go?”

“I go where I want.”

Her tongue flicked out, long and forked on the end, slipping between her multiple rows of sharp, pointed teeth, and hissing out a long breath of laughter. “_Indeed._ You come to trade or to talk?”

“I need a burnisher.”

“I have one I can spare.” She placed the tool on the table. “One snake coin.”

He didn’t know if it was a good price, but she was willing to trade with him, and that was a good start. He placed his items on the table. “I have no coin, but will you trade for work?” 

Rillam was less enthused about that, but she picked through his items, nonetheless. “These.” It was all the best of his work, but he nodded, and she scooped them up and stashed them under her table and put the burnisher in their place. 

He grinned. This was easy and strangely satisfying. He surveyed the rest of the market. Were there others who’d trade with him? It was amazing to see all wares presented, and if he had more coins, just imagine all the things he could bring home. 

Rilliam slapped her hand on the table. “They don’t like you, do they? But I do. Come back. I’ll take your trade and coins from you,” she smirked. 

It was difficult to tell if she spoke with sincerity or if she was mocking him. It could be both. No matter, he found someone who didn’t shun him. It was a good start. “I will.” 

He tucked the tool into his clothing pouch and moved on. There was a spot off to the side near an empty stall where he could observe the business of Lilim life. There were very few Lilim at the market who resembled the ones living out near the dilapidated domes near the wall. Most here looked like Maze; with minor interesting features—fangs, horns, claws—but not as spectacular and interesting as the ones called throwbacks. Rillam, the vendor, skirted the edge of what seemed acceptable.

A low rumble started to his right, and Lucifer dodged as a body flew past him. A screech rent the air as a female Lilim hit the wall he’d been leaning on and leapt back onto her feet. Lucifer scrambled to avoid the fight. The crowd parted where the two female Lilim faced off, claws out and teeth bared. The growls grew louder, overpowering even the sound of the surrounding crowd. 

Lucifer maneuvered through the assemblage, knowing better than to get anywhere near what could erupt from that. The crowd jostled him as he pushed his way through. Those who recognised him recoiled and spat at his feet. 

A hand grabbed the back of his cloak and yanked, pulling him to a stop. He spun with the motion and twisted the arm of the Lilim grabbing him until they let go. Raucous laughter followed, and he stepped away, only to trip when the closest Lilim stood on his sandal strings. The sounds of the fight across the market continued and Lucifer pulled his foot out of the sandal and yanked it out from under the Lilim’s foot. 

More laughter followed as he stood up. They had no idea who they were messing with. He should brandish his wings and show them exactly what they were… 

A hand tapped his arm, distracting him from his indignation enough to dispel his temporary rage. A short Lilim stood to his side, looking up at him with a bulbous, lumpy face and blunt tusks coming up from his bottom jaw and curling over half his face. The odd-looking male grinned and nodded, clamping his hand around Lucifer’s elbow and tugging on him incessantly. 

He shook the hand from his arm. “What do _you_ want?” 

“Sandals. Tie your sandals. They’re all wrong.”

Lucifer glanced at his feet. One foot was bare, and the other one had come undone. He didn’t know this Lilim and wanted rid of him. “And?” 

The little male’s voice sharpened with authority. “They're _wrong._ Come with me.”

“What?”

He tugged Lucifer’s elbow. “Come, come. Has no one taught you?” He clucked his tongue and shook his head as if sorely disappointed. “Angel whelps need help too. Come. Squee will teach you.”

Whelp? He didn’t understand, but the little male didn’t appear to be a threat. In fact, as unremarkable as he appeared, Lucifer felt the urge to pay attention. Was there a hint of power in this Lilim male?

In any case, he needed to tie his sandals. What would it hurt to follow? He allowed himself to be pulled into a building. This was no simple dwelling. It was huge inside, the roof consisting of several domes connected to make a singular, wide hall. Naked Lilim writhed together in pairs and groups throughout.

Lucifer watched the bodies twining together. The air smelled thick with hair-moss and sweat and an underlying scent he didn’t recognise. Grunts and moans and flesh striking flesh formed a continuous hum of sound. They looked like the wrestling Lilim he’d encountered in the lane a while back, and they all looked like they were having a very good time. 

The small male tapped his shoulder, drawing his attention back to his sandals. “You left your nest too early? Does no one teach angel spawn? You should come to the Lilim nest. Good for whelps who learn slow, like you. See. Watch Squee.”

The little Lilim spoke in a slow, patient voice, rhythmic in a way he’d never heard other Lilim speak before. He allowed himself to be prodded into place. Squee knelt and picked up Lucifer’s left foot, clucking his tongue with disapproval. 

“Whelps need good sandals, good knots. How else will you outrun the merchants who want to beat you?”

He’d noticed. 

Squee put the shoe on the ground. “Foot in! See, half done. Leave it like this when you take them off, and you can flee quickly. I’ll go slow, you can learn. Everyone is always moving too fast for little ones.”

“I’m not—”

Squee looked up and Lucifer felt it again, the urge to pay attention.

“The end is the whelp. See?”

He displayed the tip of the lace until Lucifer nodded. 

“The whelp goes through the alley and into the dome, around the Spire”—he tapped Lucifer’s ankle before wrapping the cord—"and in the dome again. Pinch the knot and loop it through, now you’re done tying your shoe." 

He grinned up at Lucifer and said, “Now you try it on the other foot.”

Lucifer navigated the lace through the rhyme and wiggled his toes. He held up his foot, proud of how well he’d gotten the fit until loud moaning drew his attention back to the naked Lilim nearest to him. It…

Squee rapped his knuckles on Lucifer’s foot, snapping his attention back to the task at hand. “Good work! Now show me on this foot.”

Squee made him tie his sandals several more times, and he got faster each time. His fingers fumbled less, and the movements became less foreign. But he couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at the Lilim around him. What were they doing with those—and putting them where? Should they really be tugged on like that? The ones doing it made it look enjoyable.

Finally, Squee stood and said, “Remember. Refuge in the nest for whelps in trouble. Especially males.” Squee gave him a look that he suspected was meant to be meaningful and squeezed his arm before walking back out into the crowded marketplace. 

Lucifer barely noticed the little Lilim’s parting. He stayed, mesmerized by the scene before him. Possibilities began to unfold in his mind. The pieces fit together like...like the columns Fraq had dragged him past. Understanding sparked and he knew now what that puzzle represented. None of the male pieces here looked so different from his own, though. How many other wonders were there to discover under the layers of cloth the more interesting throwback Lilim covered themselves in?

A male left a group and the remaining members called after, pleading with him to come back. Lucifer approached, wanting to participate, but they growled and snarled. No, he wasn’t welcome here. He shouldn’t be so far from the exit. He edged away, got the wall to his back, and retreated out the exit. Laughter chased him out of the marketplace. 

As soon as he was out of sight, he ran toward Maze’s dome. The naked Lilim bodies were like own but used in such different ways. Not all of them had been in groups, some had seemed perfectly content on their own. If Maze wasn’t back yet, he could try those things… 

When he got home, he took the time to display the burnisher on top of Maze’s toolbox. Then he shed his clothes. His hands hovered above his penis, almost trembling. It looked like it always had, not at all like the Lilim's. 

In the Silver City no one would ever… but this wasn’t the Silver City, was it? Maybe angels didn’t work the same as Lilim. If he touched it the way the other Lilim had touched theirs, would anything happen? 

Tentatively, he placed his hand over the length. 

It changed. The sight of it was a shock as it started to grow and thicken until it stood out from his body, stiff and heavy. He shifted and it swayed, something deeply instinctual screamed at him to grasp it and thrust as the lone male Lilim had.

The urge to do _something, anything _with it overwhelmed his hesitation, and he grasped the shaft in his hand. He shuddered, the sensations it elicited were overwhelming, but good. Oh, so, good. His body demanded more. He squeezed his fist around it and moved…he nearly fell over in shock. How had he never discovered this before? 

His heart raced and the surge of pleasure that coursed through him after only a few strokes flooded his senses. When it stopped, he cleaned the mess and lay back, reveling in the relaxation spreading through him. 

Would it work the same a second time? After a few flakes of ash, he grew hard again. The friction grew irritating, so he found something to ease it. He tried different things, changing how he held his hand, the angle and speed, the substances he used to ease the friction. 

He found that after the initial shock that he had to be more intent to reach that climactic jolt of pleasure. He pictured the other things the Lilim had been doing. He tried to imagine how it would feel, but he had no frame of reference.

He didn’t realize Maze had come home until he reached another climax and she stood, staring down at him sprawled out on the sleeping mat. 

He grinned up at her, catching his breath, but relaxed and hazy with pleasure. 

She grinned back. “I thought angel parts didn’t work like a Lilim’s.”

“Maze! Join me?”

It didn’t take long for her to shed her body coverings. And there she stood naked, and he saw her through new eyes. He’d seen her naked before but never felt this…this desire. For the first time he saw her body, so different from his own, and he understood how these pieces could fit together. She leaned over him, her breasts brushing against his chest and he reached up and stroked her silky skin. Desire burned within him, wanting more. 

She leaned closer; her breast brushed against his lips. He flicked the nipple with his tongue and Maze purred at him. Did she like that? He grew bolder, licking and sucking. She shuddered when his teeth scraped. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding his head in place, directing him to the other breast. Oh, he liked this.

She slid away. Her tongue trailed down the side of his neck until she found a point that made desire jolt through him. He moaned his approval as she sucked on the spot. Her teeth nipped and scraped, and he grasped at the bedding, dug his heels in and twisted. She stopped, and he stared up at her, breathing hard, and fighting the urge to take himself in hand again.

She glanced at his penis, and said, “We could have been having sex all this time?”

“Sex?”

“This.” She straddled and rubbed against him. 

It felt…better. So much better than touching himself. Then she… He was _inside_ her and he almost climaxed, but she pinched his side and it distracted his attention enough to slow down. 

Maze began moving, and he thought he might come apart at the seams. She eased away each time he came too close to losing control, and the pleasure built and built until he was a writhing, moaning mess. She clenched around him, squeezing, until every nerve in his body concentrated on one point and exploded. 

When he could feel his body again, Maze lay half on him, her chin resting on his chest. 

Lucifer stroked her hair. “Spending time in the dome just got a lot more appealing.”

She moved her leg, rubbing against him, making him gasp. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

“I didn’t know I could—” He grasped for words, but there were none in Enochian for this and he didn’t know them in Lilim either.

“You’re telling me that was your first?”

He nodded. 

She smiled, a predator baring her teeth. “I have so much to teach you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content begins to be implied after Lucifer follows Squee, and in earnest after Squee's departure.


	5. Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Maze enjoy each other’s company and share stories from their past. (Mazifer fluff)

Lucifer flopped onto the bedroll, contented to blink up at the shadows the hearth fire cast on the ceiling.

“For someone intent on exploring the collective lately, you seem satisfied to be spending your ashfalls inside.” 

He lolled his head toward her. “What makes you think I’ve given up on exploring?” he asked and shifted, rolling over to straddle her hips. “If I’d known this was an option, I never would’ve left.” 

Maze tilted her head back as he nipped at her collarbone. “This is a lot more fun than watching you mope.” 

“I don’t mope.” 

“I say you do.” Maze grabbed his hips and flipped him over. “Prove me wrong.” 

Lucifer licked his lips. “I’m open to suggestions.” 

“Less talk,” she instructed and guided his head between her legs. “More tongue.”

When Maze finished instructing Lucifer—thoroughly—on better uses for his tongue, she gave a satisfied sigh and licked her lips. “You’ve really never done this before?” 

“Never,” he grinned. He was thirsty, but it was too much effort to reach for the water flask. 

“Not bad for an ignorant beast.” 

He frowned; she was teasing but the dig hit a little too deep for comfort. “I’m aware you think that of me.” 

“You’re a fast learner,” she admitted as she got up and tore a hunk of meat off the hook. “Or I’m a good teacher.” 

Lucifer snorted. 

“You don’t believe me? When I took you in, you knew nothing. I taught you to speak, to protect yourself from ash—even to eat and drink! Everything.” 

“You think I had no language before I fell?” he asked her, sitting up. 

“Well, you made plenty of noises—it was better than listening to common beasts, sure, but nonsense.” 

He rolled his eyes. “What do you imagine angels are Maze? Where do you suppose my kind comes from?” 

“They’re beasts that fly above the ash-cloud. Everyone knows that.” 

“Beasts, are we?” 

“Not you.” She returned and sat near him; their sides pressed together. It was an attempt to mollify, but he wasn’t ready to back down yet. Maze bit into the flesh and tore another piece off, chomping noisily. “But you have to admit you were very beast-like when I got you. Naked, lacking basic survival skills.” 

“So, according to you, because we don’t speak your language or dress the way you do—because we have nothing in common, that means we’re ignorant? You may find it funny that I thought the same about the Lilim. As would my siblings if they ever met you.” 

Maze laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Only Lilim can think. And you, but you’re unique.” 

“No, Maze. Listen,” he said and licked his lips. He said his name in his native tongue, his new name, not the one his Father gave him. “This is how my name sounds in the language of my kind.” 

“That’s nonsense.” 

He leaned forward and repeated it. “Try to make the sounds.” 

She tried, and he grinned at the result. “Close enough.” It wasn’t very close, but she'd at least tried. “Listen carefully. This is how to say dome,” he said, and sang out another short trill. 

Maze laughed. 

“I didn’t know your Lilim sounds were a language at first, either, Maze. It was as nonsensical to me as this is to you. Even after I understood, it was difficult to sound out the words. It’s still a challenge.” 

“What about clothes and sandals?” 

He shook his head. “Why would we?” He prowled over to the shelf and grabbed a fist full of hair-moss from the jar before lying beside her. Maze plucked it from his fingers, lit the end, and sucked a long draw before passing it back. He sucked it in, held it, and exhaled slowly. 

He spoke, his voice trance-like, “There is a vast city with no darkness, no ash. The light shines everywhere. The brilliance of it breaks into millions of colors as it hits the crystal thrones, and the temperature is always perfect and never changes. There are no ceilings, and no walls. The air is always filled with song. One song in praise to Them. No other songs were ever considered. How could we, without being commanded to do so?”

He blinked rapidly, his eyes stinging from the smoke. Yes, the smoke. “You can see as far as forever in all directions. If you wished to reach the horizon, you never could. But you don’t try, because They’ve never given you a desire to leave.” 

Maze plucked the hair-moss from his hand and took a drag. “Sounds weird.” 

Lucifer laughed. “It’s not; weird would be interesting. Everything is always the same. Nothing ever changes.” He reclaimed the hair moss and inhaled. “In the Silver City, you don’t walk; you fly. And you have so many siblings you’re never alone. Someone is always watching.”

“What did you wear?” 

“Nothing. There was no need.” 

“So, none of you wear anything?”

“It never occurred to any of us to want to. Wanting never occurs to anyone. Unless Father decides you should. And then you do. Because you must.” 

He lay on the bedding, one arm tucked behind his head, hair-moss lax in his other hand. He’d never told Maze so much about where he’d come from before. How would she react to knowing angels were akin to Lilim and not naked, ignorant beasts? To most Lilim, thinking any creatures other themselves were capable of sentient thought was horrifying. 

And now he hoped he hadn’t said too much. 

“You’re not making sense.” 

“Same old, same old.” He frowned, his voice becoming quiet and subdued. “I was strong, and I was powerful, Maze. When I spoke, many listened.” Another inhale of the hair-moss and he closed his eyes. This was getting too close to a much deeper pain within, the reason for his downfall, and he couldn’t continue.

“Your turn. Tell me a story, Maze.”

After a moment, she removed her Talisman Pouch from her belt and opened it, retrieving a strange spherical object. She hesitated then placed the item in his hand.

“Here,” Maze said. “Before anyone thought about making strongholds and walls, we lived in small colonies.”

Lucifer held it so the firelight caught the reflective bits in the swirling pupils, and she smiled. It looked almost like an eye; the 'pupils' swirl caught the light in a dazzling array of colors. “It’s beautiful, Maze. What is it?”

She took it from him before answering. “It’s the petrified eye of an alpha arachnis.”

Oh, well that explained why it looked like an eye. He wiped his hands on the blanket.

She laughed before turning serious. “The beast terrorized our colony for many sprog cycles, attacking during the winds when we couldn’t retaliate. It took what it wanted and disappeared; its tracks erased by the wind. We lost too many to it.”

He sat up, eager to hear more. 

“Varun and I hunted it long enough for our colony spawn to grow into whelps. We searched the sulfur fields and scoured cave after cave until we found its lair. And then we returned with all the able warriors of our colony to do battle. The beasts outnumbered us ten to one. The battle raged for hands of ash cycles!”

She jumped to her feet, excitement coursing through her. “The alpha returned to his lair as I slashed the throat of his mate.” She swiped her arm through the air, wielding an imaginary blade. “The smallest arachnis had stung its venom into me before I drove my blade into its heart. My left arm hung limp, numb from the venom. 

“The alpha’s roar shook the very walls! We set upon it. Circling, keeping it between us, so we had it flanked no matter how it twisted and turned. It leaped on Varun, stupidly thinking him the bigger threat. The look on its face when my blade pierced its heart! A glorious hunt!”

She collapsed beside him, laying on her back, laughing at the recollection. “We carved the venom sacs from the smallest and threw the entire beast into the fire pit. The heat transformed its eyes into glass. We cooked them all into trophies while we licked our wounds, and I kept this one—the best one!”

Lucifer curled around her and Maze rolled onto her side, her back to his chest, and he hugged his arms around her, one hand resting on her breast. They lay together quietly for a long time. 

Lucifer marveled at the bond they'd formed. Not just sex. Sex was an unexpected and pleasant bonus. His penis twitched just at the vague thought of it. Yes, very pleasant, but the bond was so much more.

Thinking she’d fallen asleep, Lucifer whispered into her ear, “Far, far above the cloud of ash, there are many small lights in the above and they shine like the embers in a hearth after the fire has died. They illuminate all things in my world and leave no shadows, but they have not always been as they are. Father created me to bring light and gave me the ability to craft as I desired. Back when everything was young, I entered the darkness alone, it was the first time away from my Father and Mother and siblings. I could feel the energy around me, its desire to be organized and useful. I pulled on the threads of creation and spun them together. Ignited them. The song within them grew louder, and they began to dance and spark. The threads of energy were stimulated"—he trailed his fingers along her arm—"and expanded, some so much that they burst apart, releasing the potential within. Their brilliance shone as the Silver City grew, and we lived under their glow."

He nuzzled her neck for comfort this time instead of play, pulling her tighter against his chest. "I wept when the first died. But its death seeded the void with sparks that grew and changed, and it was beautiful. So beautiful. Others grew in its place and continued the dance, and that, too, was beautiful.”

Maze wiggled in his embrace and he nibbled at her skin just below her ear. Now that he'd begun, now that he'd dared to speak of his freely of his former home, he felt the urge to continue, to tell her of the motes of good he'd gleaned from the sterility of his Father's realm. “I have many siblings.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Many siblings. While following my Father’s commands, we stole time to race. Demonstrating feats of prowess was one of the few things deemed acceptable outside of direct orders, but there was joy in it, Maze. I was the fastest and the brightest. None ever matched my speed or brilliance, but the joy we felt...that was the real prize.” 

He quieted, remembering. Maze poked him in the side with her elbow, making him squirm. “Is that how you learned how to fight?” she asked. 

He didn't want to tell her what had been done with his hands. “When They created us, other beings came into existence at the same time. That which comes from darkness can not be suffered to exist.” He shuddered at the memories being evoked, at the remembrance of the blood and the sounds the Unnamed had made as they died. "And so, He ordered they be eradicated.” 

“A war?” 

“Yes. A war that will never end. These beings, the Unnamed, are much harder to find than they are to kill—canny and difficult. They slink in the shadows, attacking our backs.” 

“And you killed them?” 

“All that our Father ordered us to find, we destroyed. None of us ever considered otherwise.” He took a breath. "There was no option to refuse. I know that now. My hands were covered in blood, and yet, I was nothing more than the sword, the unwitting tool, that He wielded."

He moved his hand over her heart. Like all Lilim he'd encountered, he felt no soul within her. “You’re different on the inside. Everything you are, is right here.”

“Why wouldn't it be?” 

He had no words to explain what it meant. He asked instead, “What happens when Lilim die?” 

“Nothing. We stop living. Don’t you?” 

“We’re not nearly as lucky,” he murmured.

There was no more he could bring himself to say. 

But before the dreary turn his mood could fully take hold, she rolled back toward him and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top once more. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet. I have more to teach you,” Maze purred. "And we need a trip to the bathing dome to clean up after all this." 

Lucifer arched his back and moaned as she took him inside again. With his focus solely on her, there was no room in his thoughts for darkness.

Maze grinned down at him. "Soon, I will take you to the Commons. There are so many more lessons for you to learn."

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and capturing her breast with his mouth. The angle limited motion, but it suited the intimacy of the ashfall. Maze's hands ran through his hair and she moaned when he brought his teeth into play. This world, despite how different, how chaotic, and sometimes terrible it was in comparison to where he came from, also held so much promise. 

Lucifer looked forward to making it his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ongoing Series.  
1\. Welcome to Hell  
2\. Stir Crazy  
3\. True Self (Coming Soon)  
Due to the way AO3 statistics count kudos and hits, it is difficult to tell what level of interest there is the further we go along. Motivation is everything, so please take a moment and leave us a brief line of encouragement.


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